Let 'er rip

While in New York I stumbled upon the most exciting little shop: The Lomography Gallery store. Aside from being complete and total eye candy, the staff was great and helpful and I spent more time than I had available browsing the different cameras in stock.


I walked out of there with only one small black plastic camera, but it was literally my little bundle of joy. I loaded it right then, tugged the rip cord and started snapping away.


Lomography is perfection in imperfection. A suitable balance for the discriminating, tech-driven world of digital photography, the free-form, lo-fi yang to the yin. While stalking the right light and exposing correctly and perfecting in post is fun in the chase, lomography is brain candy. Art candy.


Just let it flow.

These boots were made for...

For the longest time I have been on the search for the perfect pair of boots. For years I traveled far and wide, up and down, over and under for the pair that called me. I wore many, many pairs that I just got because they were cheap, others that hurt my feet because they looked nice on the outside, but they all were exciting and showy in the beginning and would be relegated to the back of my closet - or the donation bin - after a few months of painful endurance.

In Japan I saw many that were so beautiful and weird I had to have them, but they were all out of my price range at the time. Sometimes I still think about them wistfully, but they're long gone and I knew in the end it was never meant to be, anyway.

Along my travels I would do a double take if I saw a girl wearing nice boots. I'd gawk, covet, envy, sometimes even whip out the camera to take a photo of her feet so I could look up the style later.

Finally, I found these. They weren't something I would have gotten for myself originally, but something about them was just.... "right" and the opportunity had pretty much just fallen into my lap. So I sprung for them, and once I opened my mind enough to try them on and try them out, I was hooked.

I admit that ever since I first ran my fingers over the beautiful, thick, supple leather that smelled so rich and good to me, I never looked back. I had what I wanted right here and there was never a need to envy another girl for her shoes ever again. That feeling has never faded, the feeling of "Hers are cool, but mine are better." It doesn't matter if anyone agrees with me or not. I believe it for myself, and I know.

But not all is perfection. As I wear them they will get scuffed, dirtied, and worn. I know the soles will eventually lose their unique tread and the leather will dull and fade, but they'll still be my boots, serving well for years to come. The right boot also is difficult to pull on and I need to struggle and strain to step in it each morning, and some days I'm unsure of my decision to keep these because of the slightly imperfect fit. But once we stop fighting and I get it on, life is perfect and we can walk anywhere. Comfortably. Happily. Together.

Now... was I talking about my boots or my relationships? Good question.

Carry on

Over the last several months my voice has faded away. I always blame not having the photos ready, or the words, because ideally in this part of my life those two must come together or nothing will be produced at all.

This is a hindering situation, so no more.

As we tie up our last weeks on the East Coast, everything is spinning faster and faster and faster. I'm nearly paralyzed with fear, of things undone and uncertainties of composure. How long will I be able to keep saying "It's fine, we'll be back?" I know we will, but it will never be the same.

I've always feared change, but at the same time I scorn stagnation. What to do, what to do?

That said, I've come to rely very heavily on the internet to maintain the friendships I have. And even though I am aware (painfully aware) that this sort of social interaction is not at all the same as seeing someone face-to-face, it has done well by my and my friends over the last 11 years.

God, has it really been that long?

We've all been through so much. Breakups, marriages, health tribulations, children, and in some cases the very darkest (And brightest) days of our lives.

To leave everyone is something I just can't really seem to face. So I stuff the days with as many appointments as I can handle and hope for the best.

This weekend has been such a wonderful one so far. I'm reminded very strongly of all of the great times that I had with my pack and how much it resembled a Lifetime movie from point to point. But last night, THE last night, was awesome. Cheap strong drinks and music that somehow, in a scene where things are always changing, didn't change at all. We were all 16 again, while we shouted over the thudding volume I think all of us were remembering times when we were younger and so much more angry. How is it that every time we go out, we hear songs that we haven't heard in forever? Classics that we love to scorn - but it's a part of us now.

All of the bright lights of Baltimore's gayborhood glittered like jewels in the cool night. These have gotten brighter over the years, or maybe my memories are slowly fading away. The synthetic notes of my teen and twenties-years introduced me to all the neighborhoods of Charm City as the nights changed from place to place. But I followed, as did we all, from here and there and back again. A territorial battle, it seemed, to who could draw the most eyeliner, fishnet, and dreadlocks.

Every city has people like me who can tell these stories. I'm not special in that way, except for what I've found and what I'm leaving. I love my friends and hope that in some small fragment of the universe, we'll always exist together, sitting in our little red corner in front of that glass wall.